


the saviour who came to tear my life apart

by missveils (Missveils)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: British Sign Language, Catharsis, Deaf Character, Emotional, M/M, Mage-Templar Dynamics (Dragon Age), Sign Language, breaking phylacteries <3, deaf warden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24597160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missveils/pseuds/missveils
Summary: Warden Surana helped Zevran break free from the Crows, now he wishes to repay him by breaking the chains binding him to the Circle of Magi.(you know that scene in The Handmaiden where Sookee destroys the library? 100% inspired by that)
Relationships: Zevran Arainai/Male Surana, Zevran Arainai/Male Warden
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	the saviour who came to tear my life apart

Waltz was woken up by Zevran shaking his arm. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Through the window, he could see the night was still dark. He stared at Zevran, confused. 

“The ship sails at sunrise, can I go back to sleep?” he signed. 

Zevran had a mischievous smirk on his face. So, he was not going to get more sleep that night. 

“I have a gift for you” he signed back. 

He placed something on Waltz’s lap. A signet ring. He turned it around to see the crest, and immediately let it drop. 

“This is the Queen’s seal! Did you steal it?” the way Waltz looked at him while singing could have burnt a hole through his skull.

“I plan to give it back. It’s… a key.”

“To where?”

“A surprise. Normally I wouldn’t dare ask you to get out of our bed. But this is special, and I need to show you before we leave Denerim.”

Waltz yawned and nodded, getting out of bed and into his robes. Zevran insisted they took their cloaks and pulled their hoods up. So it was going to be that kind of surprise. 

They stepped into the dark and damp streets. Zevran held his hand and led him through alleys and backstreets. He stopped on his tracks in the middle of one of them. The night was dark and the walls of the buildings were too high to let the moonlight in, so he put Waltz’s hand to his lips. 

“This is near the place where we killed Taliesin. I wanted to repay you for my freedom. Again.” he said, out loud.

Before Waltz could reply, he led them to a small unassuming door. 

“Just show them the seal. I will do the talking.”

Two templars opened the door, hands on their sword hilts. Waltz took a step back instinctively but felt Zevran’s hand squeeze his arm, reassuring him that it was going to be okay. 

Zevran spoke with them, too dark to gather what he was saying. When one of the templars, his face lit by the torches inside the building, asked for credentials. Waltz extended his hand, the signet ring shining gold on his finger. 

The men looked at each other and stepped aside.

Waltz and Zevran stepped into the room, as the templars left and stood on each side of the door. It slammed close behind them. The room was bare, with just a few tables and a half-finished game of cards on one of them. On the other side, another door. 

After Zevran finished opening it, Waltz asked: 

“Where are we?”

“Somewhere very very secret, and very very hidden. It took ages to find this place, but it looks like no templar can hold their tongue after several glasses of Orzammar brandy.”

“Yes, but where-” 

Waltz’s hands froze mid-air as an idea formed in his head. They dropped to his sides as the breath caught in his throat. He walked past Zevran and through the door. 

Past the door into the long stone corridor that sloped down, and down, torches zipping past him as he ran.

Zevran was probably running behind him. He might have been calling after him. But, as the corridor became colder and colder, he was now sure of what this place was. 

The corridor finally opened into a huge circular room. The ceilings were high and arched, covered in a fine layer of frost from the permanent cold spell. And in the room, dozens of shelves, marked and cataloged. 

And on the shelves, glinting gold in the dim light, thousands of phylacteries. 

Zevran finally reached him, breathless. When he looked up at the shelves, the sly smile disappeared from his face. 

His grew wide, and the mage could see on his lips what he was repeating under his breath. 

_So many._

A faint glow caught Waltz’s eye. He walked into the rows of shelves, following an invisible pull. He reached into one of them and pulled the only glowing phylactery in the room, the blood in the vial swirling in the direction of his heart. 

He turned to find Zevran in front of him. 

“Is this yours?” He signed. 

Waltz nodded. The leash that still chained him to the Circle. Even if he was Warden-Commander, the Hero of Ferelden, no amount of titles could ever protect him from the Templars if they ever decided he was too dangerous. Or too big an inconvenience. This would always lead them back to him. And him back to Kinloch Hold. 

And just like that, Zevran took the phylactery from his hands and smashed it into the floor. 

Whatever Waltz was expecting (a flash of light? A bolt from the heavens smiting him on the spot?) did not happen. Just a small crash and a growing pool of spilled blood. 

After a few seconds of silence, he put his boot on the pool of blood and started rubbing it, spreading it, helping the stone floor seep it away. 

And he screamed. And he laughed. 

And he continued until the blood was only a dry stain on the floor. 

Catching his breath, he looked up to thank Zevran but he was no longer there. Turning the corner of the shelves, he found him in front of another row of them, pulling phylacteries out and letting them crash on the floor. 

One by one. 

And then by the armful. 

Waltz could only stand and stare in awe, tears on the brim of his eyes, as Zevran pushed vial after vial off the shelves, onto the stone floor. As the pile of glass grew around his feet and the blood spread beneath him. 

It was only when Zevran moved past him and his arm brushed against his that he snapped out of this. Waltz grabbed his arm and pulled him back, behind him. 

Then he unleashed fire on one wall of shelves. 

Hot blue-white blames engulfed them. The blood boiled inside the vials and one by one they all shattered in a million pieces. 

He put out the fire and without a word they both moved from shelf to shelf, making sure all the phylacteries ended up broken. By hand and magic. 

When the floor was completely covered in glass and blood, Waltz leaned against a wall, laughing. 

Zevran walked up to him, concern on his face. Waltz could see he also had tears in his eyes. Breathing in deep, he gave him a reassuring look. 

“So, I gather you liked your small surprise?” he signed. 

Laughing again, Waltz nodded and pulled him into a kiss, his fingers tangling in his hair. 

“Let’s go now, there’s a ring I need to return before sunrise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Warden Waltz Surana belongs to @littlegumshoe (on Tumblr)


End file.
